


Kaiidith

by orphan_account



Series: What is, is [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Casual Sex, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Nyota, M/M, Post Star Trek Into Darkness, T'Pura endgame, aromantic Nurse Chapel, discussions of compulsive heterosexuality, friends with benefits Nyota/Christine, non-con kiss recovery, post Plato's Stepchildren, trans woman T'Pring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 20:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She let it make sense on the bridge of the Enterprise watching Spock watch Jim, watching their nightly chess matches, the way Spock always sought him out, the way there were subtle touches that Jim never had to ask for, and soft looks, and almost-smiles she had—at least for a while—thought Spock was incapable of having.And perhaps it was her lack of anger and the immediate resignation at losing Spock to Jim instead of feeling hurt or betrayed that she knew it. That little shadow deep inside of her—a closed door she’d never let herself really look at.A fic in which Nyota Uhura discovers herself, and in the process, finds love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been writing this for a while, and it's getting long so I'm putting it into two parts. I got sucked into the T'Pura wormhole and haven't come out yet--I'm not sure how I didn't see it before, but they are perfect for each other.
> 
> Some warnings for this fic: casual sex between Christine and Nyota is used as a coping mechanism for recovery in the aftermath of Plato's Stepchildren.
> 
> For those of you who haven't seen the episode, it's widely believed to be the most "silly" of all the ToS episodes, and yes there are those elements, but in truth it deals with torture and issues of free will and inability to consent. It's the episode that contained the first interracial kiss on TV between Shatner and Nichols, but the kiss was non-consensual (it's not shown in the fic) and I can't ever stop thinking about how Christine and Nyota dealt with the aftermath of having their free will removed and being forced to deal with that. So take care if those issues are triggery for you.
> 
> This fic also deals with Nyota coming to terms with her lesbianism after compulsive heterosexuality, something I have a lot of experience with, so a lot of this is coming from my own realizations as a lesbian. Important to remember not everyone's coming out is the same, and thanks to the heteronormative culture we live in, not all of us wlw get to be the Gold Star Lesbians.
> 
> I did the best I could with the English to Vulcan translator regarding the word for Transgender in Golic, but if anyone has any better words or options, please let me know!
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this!

She supposed it was Jim’s death that started the whole thing. Watching Spock show a level of emotion that not even his own mother’s death could evoke—not just the rage, because oh she knew he had rage, but the tears that fell just before his mind was wiped of anything other than revenge, gave her the space to question it. Not just them, as a couple, but herself. She questioned the whys—why she’d chosen Spock, why she’d been persistent to the point of what some might consider insanity, why she’d compromised on being loved.

It made sense, in the end, when she let herself think about it. She let it make sense on the bridge of the Enterprise watching Spock watch Jim, watching their nightly chess matches, the way Spock always sought him out, the way there were subtle touches that Jim never had to ask for, and soft looks, and almost-smiles she had—at least for a while—thought Spock was incapable of having.

And perhaps it was her lack of anger and the immediate resignation at losing Spock to Jim instead of feeling hurt or betrayed that she knew it. That little shadow deep inside of her—a closed door she’d never let herself really look at. Behind that door a series of hook-ups and moments between herself and others that she blamed on stress, or alcohol, or strange pollen on random planets where her lips would find soft ones, where hands would cup full breasts and wide hips, and skin with more give and more curves than any man’s.

So she wasn’t angry, because frankly it just made sense and maybe after seeing Jim die, then come back to life, and seeing Spock realize what he wanted and give up Nyota for that—even if he’d yet to make his intentions plain, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Or better yet, she just didn’t want to. The split was easy, and it was far too simple to slide back into casual friendship that meant a lot more than stolen kisses and the mindless wondering if they were ever going to do more than just fall asleep beside one another.

The ship was on the course to New Vulcan, Spock having been called back on a personal emergency, and the Enterprise lucky enough they were getting ready to finish a mission so they had the time. Nyota made her way to the observation bridge and she was unsurprised to find Spock staring out into the wide expanse of space. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head tilted to the side, and it was only a slight tension in his shoulders that gave away his awareness of her presence.

“I can go if I’m disturbing you,” she said in Golic. She wanted to practice since she’d never really had a chance to play interpreter, Vulcans fluent in more than one language from childhood—Standard being the first.

Spock turned his head, and there was a slight upturn to his lips she was privy to now that things between them had become…well, whatever they were. “You do not disturb me, Nyota. I find your presence soothing.”

“Anxious about going home?”

Spock let out a tiny sigh. “There is…a matter in which I must attend and I find myself…reluctant.”

Nyota sank into the plush sofa she was pretty sure was all Jim and Scotty’s drunk idea, and she snuggled into the corner cushion. “You wanna talk about it?” It was an honest question posed because Spock actually did talk to her—more than he talked to anyone else. He knew intimately he could trust her with even the most private of Vulcan matters.

He considered her words, then nodded once and eased himself down on the couch, a cushion of space between them. “You are aware of my bond with T’Pring,” Spock said.

Nyota nodded. She’d been living in the shadow of a faceless Vulcan woman who had been bonded to Spock in childhood. Nyota had felt the strangest sense of relief when she heard that T’Pring had survived the destruction of Vulcan, because the very thought of Pon Farr with Spock made her feel…there weren’t even words for how much she didn’t want it. She had told Spock years ago she was satisfied with being a consort, and never a wife.

“She has requested we dissolve our bond,” Spock said.

Nyota’s eyes went wide. “What?” She didn’t know much about T’Pring, except that she had never wanted to be bonded to Spock, but Spock had simply stated that the bonding was logical between both families. “Did she say why?”

Spock nodded, but didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he did speak, his voice was low and strained. “As you know, the structure of Vulcan society is closely and almost jealously guarded—we have intimate secrets which we do not share with outsiders.”

“I know,” Nyota said quickly. “And I don’t expect…”

“I merely wish to state that which you already know, so that you might understand why it took me this long to explain the nature of my joining with T’Pring.”

Nyota nodded. “Of course, and you know I won’t say anything.”

Spock’s mouth twitched up for a second. “I am aware, and my regard for you only grows, Nyota.”

She felt her cheeks flush. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Spock let out a huff of air which was as close to a chuckle as he ever got in his right mind. “As a hybrid, I am incapable of procreating, even with the intervention of science. My parents were warned that I would never have offspring of my own. However, my Vulcan genetics are strong enough that I would still be subjected to Pon Farr, so my parents sought a union to protect me from the plak tow by seeking a mate whose family was also unconcerned with procreation.”

“T’Pring,” Nyota said.

“She is rubai-gav,” Spock said.

Nyota attempted to translate the word in her head. “Changing…”

“Crudely translated, it means changing gender, but it is the equivalent to the earth gender of trans,” Spock said. “She possessed what would be considered biological male reproductive organs, at birth, but from a very young age, through the parental bonds, her parents were aware that she was not male. Rubai-gav is an accepted gender in Vulcan society, held by many. Because of Vulcan control over parts of our biology, she was able to suppress a Vulcan male puberty, though she would need medical intervention as she aged—should she choose to do so. It is an intensely personal choice, and I was sure to shield my part of the bond so that she would not feel violated. As such, I was not privy to her choices.”

“Alright,” Nyota said carefully. “With the medical intervention, does that mean she won’t experience Pon Farr.”

“From what I was told, she would still feel it, thus we kept the bond in order to protect each other from certain death,” Spock said. “She has not divulged the reason why she is requesting the bond be dissolved, but I am in no position to deny her.”

Nyota raised a brow. “Jim.”

Spock’s cheeks colored a soft green and he looked away from her. “Jim and I have not…between us, there is not…”

“You’ll get there,” she interrupted. “You are t’hy’la.”

Spock’s cheeks went even darker, but he didn’t deny it. “Perhaps it is T’Pring who senses that Jim is t’hy’la. The bond between myself and Jim is fledgling, but there is no way to shield it from her, and as I did not intend on taking her as a wife, it would not be proper to hold both.”

Nyota licked her lips in thought. “Would you have asked? Once you and Jim figure it out, would you have asked her to end it?”

Spock nodded. “I would have, yes. The decision itself does not trouble me, but of course I worry. I can perhaps assume she has found another to bond with, though I believe her choices are limited as procreation is top priority for all Vulcans. There would be very few willing, and none who could procreate.”

Nyota felt both understanding and frustration because it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t produce kids, but she also understood now that Vulcans were an endangered species, there was only one way to save them. “Well, whatever the case, I’m sure she’ll let you know when we get there. We’re staying for what? Two weeks?”

“Affirmative,” Spock said, and he relaxed a little. “I merely wish her to know that t’hy’la or not, I do not want to put her at risk of death simply because there are few left who can assist her.”

Nyota didn’t know what to say. She’d never met T’Pring, and yet she felt a sort of deep, aching sympathy for the position she was put in. It wasn’t the same as when Nyota gave Spock up to Jim, because she was losing nothing except her excuse to ignore her true self.

She sighed. “Since you shared that with me, can I share something with you?”

Spock looked at her, slightly startled. “You can, of course, share anything with me. But do not think you are obligated to…”

“No,” she interrupted, feeling anxious and desperate to just say it, because she didn’t want to lose her nerve after all this time. “No I…I need to. God, I need to say it out loud. To someone.” She rubbed a hand down her face, then took a breath. “I’m gay.”

Spock blinked at her.

She waited, then said, “I’m a lesbian. And I’ve…I think I’ve known for a long time, and I was so damn scared to even think about it, and I kept dating people like you, who wouldn’t make me…” She trailed off with an almost hysterical laugh. “Fuck. I’ve never said that out loud before. Not even to myself.”

She startled when Spock reached between them and took her hand, and he pressed her knuckles to his lips. “I admire your courage,” he said softly, and kissed her knuckles again. “I admit I knew there were things inside your mind you were unwilling to share, and though this does not surprise me, it had not occurred to me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m going to hear that a lot.” She flopped her head back against the cushion and felt profoundly grateful Spock hadn’t let her hand go yet. “God my parents…” She laughed that high, tight sound again. “They love me, and they’re pretty open minded but they’re going to…” She stopped, because she didn’t know what they were going to do. She’d never heard them say a bad word against anyone like her, but she’d also grown up with her parents waxing poetic about the love of her life, a big, strong man who would make her feel safe, and give her the family they knew she must want, deep down inside.

She knew her decision to join Starfleet, to throw herself into work and into communications and science, and eradicate all chances of her having time for a family were a way of rebelling. But this identity, her being a woman, and loving women, she hadn’t ever let herself think. Because what if they found out and then told her she could never come home, that she was a disappointment, that she wasn’t worth of their…

“Nyota,” Spock said softly, and it drew her out of the spiral. “I cannot predict what your parents might think about you, but know that you will never lose family because of this. We are your family here. You won’t be alone.”

She gave him a half smile, her eyes hot and watery though she willed tears not to fall. “No, I know that. I do. It’s just…”

“Coming to terms with something you have denied about your identity is a long process, Nyota. One I am intimately familiar with.” Spock eased his grip on her hands, their fingers loosely twined now, and she felt a pulse of comfort through his touch. “I wish that over these years I have accumulated advice which might make these terms easier to accept but…I cannot.”

“It’s okay,” she said, and meant it. “I’m happy, I guess? And terrified, but mostly I’m just happy and grateful that I am where I am.” She waited a beat, then squeezed his hand. “I hope you and Jim can you know…figure it out soon.”

Spock’s lips twitched again, but he didn’t say anything and it became clear why when the door to the observation deck slid open and Jim walked in.

“Captain on deck,” Nyota said, half-joking.

“Please don’t,” Jim groaned, and walked over, freezing when he saw the pair of them holding hands on the couch. His brow lifted, and his eyes flickered first to hers, then to Spock’s. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nope. Just having a crisis of self,” Nyota said. She reluctantly let Spock go, and she shifted further away from him, patting the cushion next to her. “Vulcan comfort is great, but I could use a squishy human hug right now, if you’re not too tired.”

“I am never too tired for that,” Jim said, and flopped down, opening his arms for her.

She’d only done this a few times, mostly out of gratitude he’d survived, and then a few times when he’d saved Spock’s life on missions where any other captain might have let him go. But this was purely for herself, and it was worth it when his warm arms came around her and tucked her in close to his body.

She couldn’t imagine being with him—letting herself be intimate, but this was more than okay. This was home and family. She buried her face in the side of Jim’s neck and breathed in the sort of sharp tang of the ship, and of his quarters, and of the bridge.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She sighed, and considered telling him she was all talked out, but she was also on a role with this coming-out thing and she didn’t want to lose momentum. Plus, if she trusted anyone with this, it was the two men sitting right here with her. “Well, it turns out I’m kind of…uh. Gay.”

Jim’s arms tightened, then loosened and he pulled back to look at her. “Seriously?”

She nodded, feeling suddenly uncertain because what if she’d been wrong this whole time, what if she…

“Thank you,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, was so much.

“Okay?” she said, confused.

He cupped her cheek. “Believe me, I know what it takes to feel comfortable saying that to someone. I know how much trust you need for that, and I’m…” His cheeks were pink and flushed. “I don’t even know what to say except thank you. I’m not sure I deserve that trust but it means a lot.”

She couldn’t help it, the tears were coming regardless of her iron control, and she felt a sort of bone-deep satisfaction when he chuckled low, and made a soft, “aww, babe,” in the back of his throat and drew her back in.

“Sorry. I hate crying,” she said, swiping her face along the front of his uniform.

Jim laughed again. “I know you do. And Spock and I promise we won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t. You two know exactly what I’m capable of doing to you if you say a word,” she said from behind a sniffle.

After a few, she felt more composed and pulled back, letting Jim settle more against Spock than her. It was saying something how the motion was automatic between them, how Spock shifted to accommodate Jim, how Jim sought him out without needing to look. She wanted that, craved it, but had no idea where to even begin looking.

“Can I ask what brought that on?” Jim wondered.

She felt her cheeks heat again, and she shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth because it would out Spock in a way she couldn’t bring herself to do. “I guess I was just tired of ignoring what I already knew. Tired of dating people who were safe, you know?”

Jim raised a brow. “Spock was safe?”

Nyota laughed. “Spock is something, alright,” and she smirked harder when Spock’s eyebrow lifted in a mirror of Jim’s. She couldn’t hold back the tiny giggle when she realized where Jim even got that expression from. How those two were so oblivious for so long would have been beyond her if she hadn’t been living her own deep denial. “Spock and I were obviously not meant to be, and I knew that, so I was safe. Because he’d never push me into something I didn’t want, and I could live happily without looking in those spaces inside my mind. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m just…lonely. And tired.”

Jim’s face fell in empathy, and he reached out, grabbing her hand even as his entire body went slack against his First Officer’s. Nyota didn’t miss the way Spock’s hand fell to Jim’s hip, or the way Jim didn’t acknowledge it, but did lean into it more. She turned her focus back on Jim’s hand which held hers. “I came out to my mom as bi when I was like…twelve? I had the biggest crush on this guy in my school—he was such an ass, but I was kind of into it.”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “That does not surprise me.”

Jim scoffed, but kept going. “She just…she told me it was a phase, that I was feeling rebellious, that I was too young to know what the hell I wanted. I spent a lot of years being really slutty after…” He didn’t say Tarsus IV because he never did, but they knew. Nyota, Bones, Spock, and Scotty knew, when they were working to get Jim back to life, when they had to go through his records. “Yeah, I wasn’t the best at coping, and I kind of did the same thing. I had this roommate briefly before we managed to hack the records so Bones and I could share our apartment,” he stopped when Spock made a disapproving noise, and he tipped his head back to wink at him. “He was gay, out for a while, but he was talking about how he did the same thing you did. Dated women that he knew weren’t going to go anywhere with him—upright religis and shit, saving themselves til marriage, women in love with other people and pining.”

“Compulsive heterosexuality,” Nyota said, because she was a genius, and she knew exactly what she’d been doing, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself.

“He said it took a while to break out of the habit and figure himself out. He wasn’t bi, but he thought he had to be for a long time because he’d fucked women. Then his boyfriend sat him down and gave him the Big Gay Talk. It helped me figure things out.” Jim shrugged and sighed, leaning his head back on Spock’s shoulder. “I am bi, by the way.”

“I know,” Nyota said, rolling her eyes. “We were at the Academy together.”

Jim chuckled and brought her hand to his mouth, his lips pressing where Spock’s had been, and she smiled to herself. “Yeah well…anyway. We’ve got your back, babe. You know that, right?”

“I do.” She closed her eyes and just let her feel the comfort of two men she loved with her whole being. She was exhausted, and her mind was drifting. “How long til we reach Sahndara?”

Jim hummed. “About twenty hours.”

Nyota carefully extracted her hand. “Okay. I need like a million hours of sleep, but I can settle for eight.” She pushed herself up, and watched as Jim’s hand fell to his lap, and he managed to somehow move even further into Spock’s space. “You two have a good rest of your night, yeah?”

“We will. And if you need anything…” Jim said.

“Affirmative,” Spock added. “At any hour, Nyota.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” Turning on her heel, she pushed the rest of her thoughts to the back of her mind, and begged her brain to just let her rest.

~*~ 

When she sought out Christine, she knew it was at least partly anxiety because they knew something was _wrong_. Part of it was because she’d been growing closer to the nurse, and the idea of sitting in the rec room having drinks and talking about their worst first dates was the only thing that was going to keep her calm until Scotty figured out how to get everyone back on board.

“Spock,” she admitted, halfway into their bottle of red Vulcan wine. “I hate to say it, but mine was Spock.”

Christine looked like every holiday had just come at once. “Seriously?”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “Come on, are you really surprised? I pursued him for weeks, woo’d him with the fact that I was one of the smartest humans he’d ever met, and he finally agreed to a date which was a fucking disaster. He ended up nerve-pinching our server because he put his hand on my shoulder when he was leaning down to retrieve my dropped fork.”

Christine burst into giggles, pressing her palm against her mouth. “Oh my god. I had such a crush on him when I first met him, too.”

Nyota’s eyes widened with surprise. “Seriously?”

Christine shrugged. “Trust me, he’s one of those, you fantasize about it but never go there kind of guys.”

“He’s actually not that bad,” Nyota said with a fond grin as she tipped the last drops from the bottle into her glass. “I mean, obviously it’s not going work between us, what with me being a raging lesbian and all but…”

Christine choked on her swallow of wine. “You’re what?”

Nyota realized what she’d just blurted out. “Oh god. I mean…I am, but I didn’t mean to say anything. I just…”

Christine reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “Hey. I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? I promise, and it’s okay. I mean, we’ve just talked for the last hour about all the bad lays I’ve had—all of whom were women. I’m not judging.”

Nyota’s cheeks were flaming hot, but she nodded and wished she could hold her liquor a little better. “No I know. It’s just uh…a new thing? I guess. Or well, not new, but I’m kind of…”

“Coming to terms?” Christine offered, and when Nyota nodded, she squeezed her hand tighter. “I get it. I’m aromantic, and it took me so damn long to figure out what was wrong with me. Or well, to figure out nothing was actually wrong with me. I kept waiting for the right girl to come along and I thought maybe I was just a self-destructive asshole who just couldn’t seem to keep anyone happy. I thought it had to be me, you know? I loved going on dates, loved that rush of the hook-up, but the idea of being _with_ someone like that…”

“Yeah,” Nyota breathed. “That’s kind of the opposite of my problem. I want. I really really want all that. I want the casual touches and the long looks and the knowing that this is it and it’s going to be that way, even if we’re seven galaxies away.”

Christine bit her lip. “Spock and the Captain, huh?” When Nyota’s eyes widened, Christine shook her head. “You have to be in a damn coma not to see it, the morons. I mean, I can have a fantasy or two about Mr. Spock, but the way Jim looks at him, like Spock is the reason for the existence of every moon and every sun…”

“Jim’s not better,” Nyota pointed out.

Christine snorted into her glass. “Jim’s a disaster. He might as well be wearing an, I’m With Vulcan, shirt everywhere he goes. I really hope that boy doesn’t think he’s subtle.”

Nyota grinned. “Yeah, he does, but I guess that’s part of his lovable charm. Honestly it would be worse if he wasn’t so…”

“Yeah,” Christine said from behind a breath, because she knew. Of course she knew. Everyone on the ship did, and that’s why they were here, ready to live and die for this Captain who would do the same for them.

Nyota bit her lip. “I hope they get back soon. I hate this. I hate being cut off, not knowing what’s happening, whether or not they’re safe…”

Her words trailed off when she felt something tug at her, strange almost like a transporter but…not. She looked up at Christine who looked just as startled, and then… they were somewhere else.

~*~ 

Nyota was shaking on the transporter pad, but was doing her best to keep her shit together. She’d been in worse situations, facing certain death and moments where she was sure it would be her last. But there was something to be said about losing every ounce of her autonomy, of having something _inside_ her, forcing her hand, removing her will, using her like a puppet.

She wouldn’t ever forget Jim’s stiff lips on hers, the way he held her tense and desperate to pull away because she was terrified, and so was he. She’d never forget the way he looked at her, full of regret and anger because he didn’t have a choice either, and god…

She dared a glance over at him when he was barking orders, and their eyes met for a second before she looked away. She couldn’t right then. She needed an escape, a moment to be alone. When Jim dismissed them, Nyota hurried into the corridor, but was caught by her elbow a second later.

She turned to find Spock there, his eyes looking very human right then as he kept his grip light. “Nyota…”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“That would be illogical, as you were just put under some measure of trauma,” he pointed out. “Fear and coercion have negative effects on even the strictest Vulcan psyche.”

She took in a shaking breath. “Yeah. I mean…yeah, but that’s not… I just need some space right now.” She glanced behind Spock and saw Jim talking quietly with Christine who was hugging her middle and nodding to whatever Jim was saying. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You were there longer than I was, and I know that…”

“I will recover,” Spock said. “But I wanted to ensure that you…” Spock trailed off, clearly not sure of the words.

Nyota took pity on him, and closed her hand around his briefly. “Let’s get dinner tomorrow, okay? You, me, Jim…even Christine if she wants to. Solidarity.”

Spock nodded. “That would be most agreeable. Should you need anything…”

Nyota started to step away, but froze. “Go talk to Jim. I’ll be fine, and I think he needs…I think whatever he needs, you’re the only one who can give it to him right now. Okay? We’re off to New Vulcan next and that’s going to be a lot. So go talk to him.”

Spock hesitated, then nodded again. “You are right.”

Nyota took the moment to escape, and when she stepped into the silence of her room, she felt her knees threaten to buckle. Nothing had really happened—she’d had worse kisses under the influence of random drink and food before. But maybe it was because after all this—after these long days of finding herself and accepting herself, and then losing what little control she had to be the plaything of some immortal who thought of her as just a body…it was difficult to cope with. How many people existed who thought of her like that? Like a good fucking from a strong man would turn her right?

She shuddered, and hurried into the shower, using the water function as hot as she could stand it to scrub the last vestiges of that planet from her skin. When she finished, she dressed in her most comfortable clothes, and set out to curl up in her bed when the alert chimed at her door.

She expected Jim at the very least, or maybe Spock again who couldn’t let go, but she was startled to her core to see Christine standing there. Her hair was in a loose knot at the back of her head, and her pajamas were covered by a robe.

“Can I come in?” she asked in a voice far less confident than Nyota was used to.

She stepped aside quickly, and set the command on her door to bar everyone but a Captain’s override. “Are you okay?” she asked after a long silence.

Christine was standing in the middle of the room, looking a little shell-shocked which Nyota understood more than she wanted to admit. “I’ve never felt like that before. So…helpless.”

Nyota swallowed thickly. “I know. God I…I’ve dealt with worse, and I know Jim and Spock had it under control, but when he had me like that…”

Christine shuddered and turned her face away. “I’m angry at Spock. And it’s not his fault. Neither of them had any control, but I can’t…”

“I know,” Nyota breathed. She bit her lip, then looked over at her bed. “You want to sleep with me tonight.” When Christine went pink, Nyota shook her head. “No. God no, not like…I just mean, together. In the bed. I’m exhausted but I feel so weird about being alone, and normally I’d go to Jim or Spock but I just…can’t.”

“Yeah,” Christine said, then reached across the distance and tugged Nyota’s hand into her own. “I need to do something that’s my choice. That I’m doing for myself.”

“Yes,” Nyota said.

Christine stepped closer, and Nyota felt her body open to her without really thinking about it. For a moment she panicked—it seemed so soon after having Jim’s hands on her that she would want this, but Christine’s words made sense to her. Something that she was choosing, for herself. And after everything she’d learned about herself, she wanted this.

“Nyota,” Christine said quietly.

Nyota lifted a hand and cupped Christine’s cheek. “I want this. Maybe I’m emotionally compromised, but if it helps, I’ve been attracted to you about as long as I’ve known you.”

Christine smiled at her. “Yeah? Well…same.”

Nyota laughed. “And I know what this means—I know what you’re asking for, and I’m not…I love you, Christine. But I’m not going to fall in love with you.”

A line of tension in Christine seemed to fade, and her hands went to Nyota’s waist, pulling her close. “I trust you.”

Nyota’s eyes fell shut at that, and she felt something hot burning through her veins. “Kiss me,” she all-but begged.

Christine was quick to oblige, her lips dry but soft and plush, and very, very good as they pressed to Nyota’s. They were parted slightly, and when Nyota turned her head for a better angle, Christine carefully slid her tongue in. It was soft, not dominating, not insistent, just a careful dance between the two of them where Nyota felt like she was finally allowed to take what she wanted, because it was being freely, and gladly given.

She moaned a little, and Christine, mouth broke away from hers, slipping into the crook of her neck to nip at her skin. “Bed?”

Nyota nodded, and let Christine walk her backward until the backs of her knees hit the mattress. It was a tight fit—Nyota never had a need for a double, but it didn’t matter. Christine hovered over her, gently pulling her pajama top up to reveal her shower-soft skin. Her hand looked strangely pale against the dark sepia of Nyota’s own, and it was the contrast that brought her to the present.

“I don’t have a lot of experience,” she admitted, and she felt flushed when Christine looked up and smiled at her.

“That’s fine. Just you in this bed with me is enough to rock my world.” With that, she shuffled lower, taking Nyota’s pajama pants with her, revealing her bare legs and soft panties. Christine tossed them aside, and dipped her head in low to press soft, open-mouthed kisses to the insides of Nyota’s legs. “I want to eat you out until you come on my face, and then I want your fingers inside me. That sound okay?”

“Shit,” Nyota gasped, feeling herself go hot and wet, her clit giving a slight throb. “Yes, that’…I want that.”

Christine laughed very softly, and then nosed between Nyota’s labia through the cotton of her panties. After what felt like an eternity of soaking through them, Nyota lifted her hips so Christine could remove the barrier. “I’ve seen your files. I’m in charge of your files, so I know we’re good, but if you want me to run and get protection…”

Nyota licked her lips, then said, “It’s okay. You’re the one putting your tongue in there, so if you feel safe…”

“I do,” Christine said, and then ran her tongue through Nyota’s course hair, between her folds, teasing at her swollen clit. Nyota gasped, her hips arching until Christine held them down with a firm hand. Her eyes squeezed shut as Christine brought up a finger and traced it around her opening, her tongue laving at her clit until Nyota felt like she was going to explode.

“Shit,” she said, fisting her hands in the sheets. “I’m not going to last long. I’m not…”

Christine pulled away for a second, and the cool air was almost intolerable against Nyota’s overheated skin. Then she lowered her head to her opening, and with her tongue, gave her the same sort of kisses she’d been giving her mouth. Her tongue pushed in softly, tracing around the sensitive opening, pushing against the flood of wetness. Christine groaned at the taste, and Nyota had to use everything in her power to hold back her orgasm. Christine’s tongue was insistent though, and talented, working Nyota up with a thumb gently rubbing her clit in circles, and her mouth fucking into her pussy in a rhythm that was sending her over the edge.

“I’m going to come,” she said with a heavy breath, and then she did. She felt the rush of it, starting in her belly and racing into her chest as her vagina clenched, and throbbed, and gave a rush of fluid against Christine’s face. It took her a moment to realize Christine’s thumb had pulled away, and she was pressing soothing kisses to the insides of Nyota’s thighs.

“You with me?” Christine asked quietly.

“Yes,” Nyota said, breathy and still a little overwhelmed. She made grabby hands, and quickly had the other woman next to her, turned to face each other with one of Christine’s legs cocked up. Nyota made quick work of her pants and panties.

“Hey,” Christine said, her hand gently grabbing Nyota’s wrist. “If you need a moment…”

“I need to get my fingers in you,” Nyota said in a rush. She felt heady and desireable like never before when Christine flushed, and groaned, and spread her legs. Nyota grabbed one ankle and hooked it over her hip, turning fully onto her side so she could work a hand between them. “Tell me what you want, tell me what you like. I want to give it to you.”

“Two fingers,” Christine said, her voice nearly a moan. “Just to the first knuckle. Use your thumb to…”

Nyota knew what she meant then, and she leaned in, licking the taste of herself out of Christine’s mouth as she eased her fingers into Christine’s wet hole. They slipped in easy, and just to the first knuckle. Christine was thick with desire, squeezing around her as Nyota worked a gentle thrusting, pressing against the walls of her entrance. With her thumb, she reached up through coarse, blonde hair and found her clit, long and swollen, begging to be stroked. Her motions were soft, her eyes drinking in the way Christine’s whole body moved into it, the way she clutched at Nyota, the way her hips arched and mimicked the thrusting of Nyota’s hand. 

This was everything she had wanted, everything she had been denying herself for so long. Her mouth fell away from Christine’s eliciting a cacophony of moans as she used her free hand to lift Christine’s shirt and cup one of her breasts. She thumbed a nipple, and used her mouth on the other one, and it was with that motion that she felt Christine fall into her orgasm, spilling sweet, hot, and wet on her palm.

She pulled away with the same care and gentleness Christine had showed her, leaving her hand pressed between her legs with a careful pressure, and letting her mouth come to rest open on Christine’s collarbone. Christine’s arm lifted, her hand stroking against the skin at Nyota’s neck, and their breathing slowed, matching each other into a calm, sleepy rhythm.

“Will you stay?” Nyota asked after some time. “I…I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I’ll stay,” Christine said, and tucked Nyota in close.

Nyota couldn’t love Christine, because Christine would never love her back. Not the way she needed, not the way she wanted. But what they’d been through changed everything, and there was a bond between them of experience and comfort that couldn’t be broken. It was like Spock had said—this was home here, with everyone. This was safety and it was warmth, and it wasn’t exactly what she was looking for, but it was part of what she needed.

With that thought to bring her some measure of peace, Nyota closed her eyes and let herself sleep.

~*~ 

“Two hours thirty minutes until we reach New Vulcan, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sulu.” Jim eased back in his chair and turned his head, trying to look surreptitious as he glanced back at Nyota. She sighed, shaking her head at his over-concern, but also warmed because although he watched her closely, he gave her the space she needed to recover.

Waking up with Christine only served to remind Nyota that she wanted something like this—maybe not a partner who would be with her all the time—she didn’t feel as co-dependent as Spock and Jim seemed to be with each other. But knowing someone was hers, out there, wherever. Yeah, she wanted that.

Still, the orgasm that night, and the one the following morning in the shower was nice, and Christine kissed her before heading back to her own quarters, telling her if she ever needed to blow off steam, Nyota knew where to find her. Nyota kissed back with a promise, and had visited her twice in the two weeks it took to get to New Vulcan.

“Attention,” Kirk said, using his Captain Voice as he signaled the ship, “arrival on New Vulcan signals a two-week shore leave. Some of you will be departing the planet for nearby systems, and shuttles will be provided. Our itinerary has been forwarded to each of your PADDs, and I expect prompt attendance before departure. The Enterprise waits for no man,” and his pause there had Nyota nearly laughing because she couldn’t even begin to count how often the Enterprise had been forced to wait for certain members of the crew. “Please have a good leave, and I’ll see you all in two weeks. Kirk out.”

He flicked the switch with the tip of his finger, then spun his chair and grinned at Nyota. “You taking off?”

“I was promised a rather luxurious stay here, actually,” she said with a half grin. “Hot springs, peace and quiet, and the chance to pick the brain of the Vulcan Science Academy communications team.”

“Sounds great,” Jim said.

“And you, Captain? You’re…sticking around?”

She took note of Jim’s blush, and his glance at Spock he likely thought was subtle, but was a shining beacon of obvious that they’d taken their relationship to the next level. Finally.

“Actually, Mr. Spock has asked me to stay on and help facilitate diplomatic relations, should any be needed regarding the Vulcans and Starfleet.”

Chekov gave a small cough, which sent Sulu into a small fit of giggles, and Jim looked furious. “Insubordination,” he growled.

Nyota tried to cover her mouth more carefully, and she glanced to her left and met Spock’s eye. His lifted brow almost ended her composure, but she looked away just in time—though not before she caught the slight upturn of his lips.

The bridge crew were given an hour to gather what they needed before beaming down. They’d meet with the High Counsel before taking their leave, or in Nyota’s case, being shown to her promised quarters in the Capital, so she hurried to her rooms to pack. She was nearly there when she heard her name spoken softly, and she turned to find Spock walking quickly behind her.

“I wanted to have a moment,” he said.

She nodded, then gestured toward her door. “I have to pack. Do you mind if we do both at the same time?”

“A most logical suggestion. I am…allowing Jim to pack for him and myself,” he said with both regret and amusement in his tone.

She snorted. “Yeah well…have fun with that. Luckily I don’t think you own anything more scandalous than a couple of knitted sweaters, so you shouldn’t worry too much. And from what I recall Vulcans don’t swim so…no speedos?”

Spock looked mildly confused, but didn’t ask for clarification, just followed her inside, then to her bedroom where her suitcase was still half-full. “I wished to…thank you for your advice,” he said, slow like he was choosing his words carefully. “It was my wish to make amends with you and Nurse Chapel over the incident with the Platonians, but after speaking with you and seeing your distress, it became obvious that my presence and Jim’s would have been most unwelcome.”

Nyota’s cheeks burned as she turned toward Spock, a half-folded dress in her hands. “We weren’t mad at you. I mean…illogically we were, because even though it wasn’t your fault—that you had no control—it was still you and my brain wasn’t ready to rationalize that just yet. But it’s better now.”

Spock nodded, then asked bluntly, “Are you and Miss Chapel engaged in a relationship?”

Nyota laughed softly. “No.”

“I do not wish to pry, but I glimpsed the two of you in an act of kissing that was…more intimate than I’m given to believe two friends engage in.”

She licked her lips. “We fucked a few times. Casually. I needed to blow off steam and the both of us needed to do something that was ours, that we chose, that no one manipulated us into doing, you know?”

“I believe I do know the feeling quite well, Nyota. It was that desire which drove me to admitting my feelings to Jim,” Spock said, his hands locked behind his back which showed the tension in his shoulders. “It is a strange juxtaposition of emotions that I am having trouble suppressing. The feeling of gratitude that something pushed me into admitting to Jim that we are t’hy’la, and rage that the choice was taken not just from myself, but from you, Miss Chapel, and from Jim.”

Nyota’s eyes lowered. “Look, it was shitty and I can’t say that I’m not going to have nightmares for a long time over this. But it’ll pass, and it’s easy not to be angry now. I love Jim a lot, you know? I’d die for him.”

“Let us hope it would never come to that,” Spock said. Then after a moment of silence, “Would you do me the honor of meeting with T’Pring and my father this afternoon?”

Nyota dropped the shirt she was holding in surprise. “Seriously? Why?”

“T’Pring is well versed in communications, and I believe it would benefit you to become acquainted. I do not believe she holds hard feelings toward me, but if there is, I find it…comforting that you might soothe the roughness between us.”

Nyota felt overwhelmed with emotion and affection toward Spock—the sheer trust he placed in her, and the reminder that whatever had happened between them, even when it was over, there was still this. “I would be honored, of course.”

Spock’s lip twitched up, and she realized she’d seen more smiles from Spock in the last month than she had in the entirety of their romantic relationship. “That pleases me. I will leave you to your packing, but if it is agreeable, you can beam down with myself and Jim.”

“I’ll be there.” She walked from the bed, right into Spock’s space, and went up to her toes to kiss him on the cheek. She felt his skin heat up with a pleased warmth, and felt the familiar grip of his hands on her waist. Now that she knew it meant family, that it meant home and never ending support, his touch didn’t make her gut twist with worry and anticipation. Instead she just felt at peace.

They stood there a moment longer, then Spock left and she hurried to finish packing, more than ever curious about Spock’s former bondmate, and how it was going to all play out.

~*~ 

New Vulcan was just as hot as Vulcan—a place Nyota had been only once. It had been a whirlwind stop, one she’d been given special permission for. Spock hadn’t told her it was his mother’s birthday—not really on purpose, since Vulcans didn’t celebrate birthdays. But it was his own tradition to spend the afternoon with her, and Nyota didn’t really know what to think that Spock invited her along. She remembered panicking momentarily, thinking maybe this was some grand gesture before he proposed marriage, but she’d met Amanda and had been swept up by her grace and poise and overall friendliness. It startled her how a woman like her had managed to raise a man like Spock—and it only became clear, the influences of her, after Spock’s feelings for Jim overwhelmed his desire to immerse himself as fully and completely Vulcan. For Jim, Spock had allowed himself to be emotional, vulnerable, and that was when Nyota saw Amanda through and through.

It made her sad now, to think about it. The place was so much the same, but the differences were striking, and she could only imagine how the remaining Vulcans felt. Spock gave no indication of distress, but she saw him reach out and touch the back of Jim’s hands twice as they waited for the Vulcan delegation shuttle to arrive, and that told her all she needed to know.

Her stomach was in knots—she knew Sarek had only tolerated her because Spock had been clear he had no intentions of bonding with a human. At the time she’d been torn between relief and insult, and she wondered what Sarek would think now. But then again, so much had changed, Nyota was fairly sure Jim got the better end of the Sarek deal.

Not that it mattered.

She stepped up close to Spock and felt him lean into her gently to reassure her. She offered a soft smile, then straightened her shoulders as the shuttle arrived. Her nerves were mostly for Spock, she realized, and the decision he was making, even if T’Pring had been the one to make it. She would never claim to understand the connection the Vulcans had with each other, and she supposed it was only the bond now between Jim and Spock that wouldn’t leave Spock bereft and alone when the bond was dissolved.

Nyota prepared her ta’al, and when the delegation exited the shuttle, she held up her hand along with Spock, and Jim’s passable one. Sarek led the fray, and held his own, nodding to his son before a nod to Jim, and then one to Nyota who was surprised at being acknowledged.

“We are honored by your presence, Captain, Spock, Lt. Uhura.”

She nodded, and offered her greeting in Vulcan, which Sarek responded to. 

“We have arranged the first meeting between yourself and T’Pring in the High Chambers. Though humans are not usually permitted, due to your position in Starfleet, it is accepted.”

Spock looked vaguely uncomfortable when he said, “It is also necessary, as my mind holds a second bond with the Captain.”

Sarek’s lifted brow was the only thing that betrayed his surprise. “Indeed.”

“It is…a matter which we can discuss this evening,” Spock said.

“That is logical. If you will?” Sarek led the way to the shuttle, and Nyota was given some reprieve from the heat of the twin suns too much like old Vulcan, and not enough. The drive to the High Chambers was quick, and she was impressed to see how much of the city was built, and how much of it looked like the place she’d once visited.

It was logical that they’d begin with the capital city, and she had to wonder if anything was happening in the outskirts—as some of the Vulcan laborers had survived, but not many. She couldn’t imagine there would have been crowding this early on, but Vulcans were an isolated people, and she had to figure some of the wouldn’t want to stick around where the grief was most palpable.

She didn’t ask though, as it wasn’t her place, and it was likely she’d get more answers once the formalities were all over. She sat quietly next to Spock, and tried not to be so painfully aware of how Sarek’s eyes strayed to her every so often.

The walk to the chambers was sweltering, and she wished she’d remembered the Vulcan robes Amanda had given her on their single visit. They were created to utilize the heat to the body’s benefit, and it was similar to wearing a cool breeze against her skin. She hadn’t thought, but she assumed there were shops at least that she could purchase clothing to tide her over for the two weeks she was there.

They were led directly into a room with high ceilings and a short table. Books lined the walls, most of them new looking, and she had to assume that they were new copies of ancient, pre-Surak writings the Vulcans were attempting to preserve. Again, she didn’t ask, but instead looked at the single Vulcan woman sitting at the head of the table.

Nyota was immediately taken aback at her beauty. She was thin, as most Vulcans were, with perfect posture. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a severe knot, and her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass. Her cupid’s bow was as pronounced as Spock’s but her eyes had a softer, more Vulcan shape, and it served the purpose of accentuating the physical human traits Spock possessed.

She rose the moment they entered the room, and she held up her ta’al. “T'nar pak sorat y'rani, S’chn T’Gai Spock.” Her voice was rich, a slight grate to it like she hadn’t spoken in a long time. But it flowed with a beauty Nyota hadn’t been expecting, though in truth she had met relatively few Vulcan women so she had little to compare T’Pring to.

After Spock’s greeting, he was quick to introduce Jim. “T’hy’la, James Kirk,” Spock said, and it was obvious then that T’Pring would have known about the bond. “This is a member of my crew and a friendship companion, Nyota Uhura.”

Now she had T’Pring’s attention, and it was…so much. Her eyes bore into her, and there was no telling what she was thinking, but Nyota found herself almost desperate to know. She had never reacted to anyone like this before, and her throat felt dry. It was only by force of habit on diplomatic missions that she managed to go through the motions of greeting.

T’Pring offered a ta’al in return, and merely quirked an eyebrow before resuming her seat. “There is little to discuss, and much of that I wish to do alone, Spock.”

Spock looked helplessly at Jim and Nyota before nodding. “That is logical, and your right.”

“I will show them to the gardens, and you may join them when the meeting is over,” Sarek said. He gestured toward the doors, and for a moment it looked like Jim was going to argue. But instead of causing a diplomatic incident, Jim conceded and followed Sarek, with Nyota on his heels.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jim couldn’t help but ask.

Sarek regarded him for a long moment, then resumed walking. “It is unprecedented that a Vulcan bring a new potential bondmate to such a meeting.”

“Yeah,” Jim said, and rubbed the back of his neck as Sarek held a door open. They were led outside to a surprisingly cool garden with plants Nyota had never seen. Most of them were succulents, but there were blooming flowers near the edge of the dome, and a water feature which she knew would have been unheard of on old Vulcan. “God, that must suck for her.”

“She will be unaffected,” Sarek said. He stopped, sizing the both of them up. “I must confess at my surprise that you, Captain Kirk, are the one to take T’Pring’s place. I had assumed the Lieutenant would have been the more logical choice.”

“There’s no logic in bonding with someone you’re not in love with. At least, not for a human,” Nyota said plainly. “I care for Spock deeply, but I never wanted to marry him.”

Sarek nodded. “It is a shame. My wife had quite enjoyed your company.”

Nyota bowed her head. “I grieve with thee.”

Sarek nodded in acknowledgement. “The meeting should not take long. When terms are agreed upon, the bonding will be severed and we can arrange for yourself, Captain, and for Spock to join before you leave the planet.”

Jim pinked, but just nodded and said nothing until Sarek walked out of the room. “Shit. Am I getting married on this trip?”

Nyota snorted. “You didn’t realize the implications of the whole t’hy’la bond thing?”

“I barely notice the implications of Spock giving an actual shit about me most days.”

Nyota rolled her eyes and dragged Jim to a bench to sit. “You can say no, you know? He’s not going to be offended if you’re not ready.”

“Nah,” Jim said, and grinned at her, crooked and goofy. “I love him—for whatever that means. And this will be good for him. I can’t imagine what he’s going through and it’s not like I wouldn’t do it eventually.” A beat of silence passed, then he reached out and briefly touched the back of her wrist. “You doing okay?”

Nyota gave him a careful smile, and leaned over to nudge him with her shoulder. “Yes, Captain, I’m fine. Honestly I’m really looking forward to the rest and the alone time.”

Jim bit his lip. “I know a lot of that is my fault, and I just need to say…”

“Don’t,” she begged, and a hint of desperation leaked into her tone. “Jim, don’t, okay? I’m…me and you, we’re good. Because none of it was actually your fault at all. You couldn’t have stopped them any more than I could, and you did everything in your power not to…you know.”

He nodded. “I just…back when we first met, I was an aggressive asshole and I know I kept hitting on you even when I knew you didn’t want me to. And then all this happened and it…well. It made me think about the ways I was a huge, huge dick.”

“You were annoying, but you never crossed any lines, Jim,” she said, and meant it. “When I say we’re good, it’s because we are. It’s going to take me some time to get over that feeling of not being in control of myself, and…everything they made you do. But I’m furious at them. You went through it just as much as Christine and I did.”

Jim bowed his head and sighed. “Thanks. I’ll probably live with the guilt forever, but you know I love you. And I don’t think I can live with myself if we’re not okay.”

She shrugged. “We’re great. And on that note, can we talk about how unbelievably hot Spock’s ex is?”

Jim groaned, shoving his hands over his face. “Oh my god, can we not? Because holy shit, she is, and I would not be surprised if he decides to just tell me to fuck off so he can keep her. I mean, genius, and gorgeous, and all…Vulcan-y. How do I compete with that?”

“It is illogical to compete with that which I do not desire, Jim.” Spock’s voice spoke from right behind them, startling them both. His hand reached out, and caressed Jim’s cheek as Jim looked up, making almost literal heart-eyes at his First Officer.

“Jesus, that was fast. You done already?”

“T’Pring did not wish to divulge her solution for Pon Farr, but assured me she would endure. As Vulcans do not lie,” Spock said, and shrugged one shoulder up gently, “it was illogical to assume she was providing incorrect information.”

Nyota had a sudden need to point out that while Vulcans didn’t lie, per se, they were master manipulators and masters at telling you things you wanted to believe in such a way, you had no other choice but to accept them. T’Pring succumbing and eventually being killed by plak tow hit Nyota hard, like a punch to the sternum, and she almost wanted to demand that Spock to back in there and ensure that T’Pring had a back-up plan.

But Spock was still talking, and though Nyota had missed most of it, she gathered that the bond was now severed, which paved the way for Spock and Jim to complete their own.

“You shall attend, Nyota?” Spock asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“As there are no such beasts on New Vulcan, I shall take that as an affirmative,” Spock said, and allowed Jim to laugh, and kiss him. “Now, my father has requested our presence for an afternoon tea. Nyota, would you care to join?”

“Actually, I kind of want to just get to my quarters and have a long soak. So if you just point me in the right direction…”

“Head to the front of the chambers and I will inform someone to chauffer you,” Spock said.

She exchanged a quick hug with Jim, and a squeeze to Spock’s wrist before heading out. She loved knowing that they had this, that they would be happy with each other, but it was also a cloying, almost suffocating jealousy that she hated. Because she could be happy, but it only highlighted how alone she truly was.

The hot air was enough to distract her as she left the building, and she quickly took to the shade, leaning against a cool, marble pillar as she waited for her ride. She closed her eyes and let herself envision her quiet quarters, and a long soak, and she was so deep in her fantasy she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until a voice spoke. 

“Nyota Uhura, yes?”

Nyota’s head whipped to the side hard enough to sting a nerve. “I am, yes,” she replied, wincing at the pain.

T’Pring regarded her for a moment, and then before Nyota could do anything, T’Pring’s long fingered hand reached out, pressing gently on the strained tendon. She pushed down in a subtle rhythm, and suddenly, the ache was gone.

“Thank you,” Nyota said.

T’Pring’s hands fell behind her back. “The thanks are illogical, as I possessed the skill and there was no logic in your continued pain. But as I believe it is a human custom…you are welcome.”

Nyota couldn’t help her smile, and it only grew when T’Pring’s eyebrow rose. “Spock said that you’re a communications specialist?”

T’Pring blinked for a second. “It was not my specialty, but I confess it was a talent of mine in my youth. I find myself startled that he would remember such a thing.”

Nyota felt a burst of affection for Spock. “Well, he said you might be willing to talk sometime? I’m the communications officer on the Enterprise, and I like to have exposure to multiple native speakers of a language. Especially because unspoken language is so engrained in every culture, but it tends to differ by region, gender, race…things like that.”

“And since Spock is half-human, it makes his experiences as a Vulcan compromised,” T’Pring said.

Nyota bristled. “He’s not compromised, he’s just different, like anyone might be if they…”

“You have taken offense,” T’Pring said, interrupting the start of Nyota’s rant. “That was not my intention. I merely meant to say that his upbringing was influenced by humans, and therefore did not experience the same childhood as one who did not have such. It does not make him less, as you say.”

Nyota felt her shoulders relax a fraction. “Spock went through a lot as a child.”

“As he continues to do so with his choice of bondmates,” T’Pring stated plainly. “But he has always made such choices—a trait of his human heritage. You are likely wondering if I was one who participated in the tormenting of Spock.”

“Yeah,” Nyota confessed.

T’Pring nodded. “I did not participate, yet I found myself sympathetic to the tormenters. I did not appreciate that which I found…too alien. It was only after the destruction of Vulcan that I came to appreciate the benefits we can gain from those unlike us. It was a difficult, and painful lesson to learn.”

Nyota swallowed thickly. “I grieve with thee.”

T’Pring merely nodded to acknowledge her comment. It was then the shuttle arrived, and a Vulcan guide stepped out of the building. “I would be pleased to discuss language and culture with you, Nyota, if you would permit it.”

Nyota felt her face go a little flush, and she tried not to seem too eager as she nodded. “I would love that. I’m staying…”

“I am aware of it. Expect a message from me promptly regarding a time, and we shall meet there.” T’Pring held up her ta’al, and Nyota repeated the gesture before allowing herself to be led away.

~*~ 

“Are you still on New Vulcan?” Nyota asked through the comm.

Christine’s laugh was light and calm. “Yeah. Leonard and I are staying for the bonding thing tomorrow, then we’re taking off for a week. You’re really staying?”

Nyota sighed, staring at her feet which hung in the crisp, alien-blue waters of the hot spring. “I am. I guess. I don’t know. All I wanted in the world was to have some time to myself, and now that I’m alone it just feels so…suffocating.”

Christine sighed quietly. “Why don’t you come out with us. We’re getting ready to head into this bar thing and…”

“There’s a _bar_ on New Vulcan?” Nyota asked, unable to keep the shock from her tone.

Christine laughed again. “I guess it’s to accommodate all the off-worlders who are helping rebuild. Gotta give it to the Vulcans, they’re really trying not to be so…themselves.”

Nyota didn’t know if that made her more sad, or more hopeful for the future of their race. She supposed at the very least there was little threat to their bloodlines as Vulcans couldn’t really interbreed with other races without extreme medical intervention—and she didn’t think any of the Vulcan scientists would be lining up for that any time soon. So maybe it was a good thing.

“You know what, why not. Comm me the coordinates and I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Sounds good, hun.”

Nyota shut her comm off and lifted away from the spring. Her skin was humming with heat, and her muscles relaxed in spite of her current mood, and she felt a little floaty as she walked back into the expansive bedroom and grabbed one of the Vulcan tunics she’d grabbed on her way over. It fit strangely, like the ones Amanda had given her, but it immediately took the edge off the heat which was still ever-present, even at dusk.

She donned open-toed shoes, and headed out, inquiring about an aircar which was provided almost too quick. She gave over the location of the bar, and in ten minutes, she was standing outside wondering if this really was a good idea. Most of the patrons milling around outside weren’t Vulcan at all—she recognized the differences between the Vulcans and the Romulans, and she was startled to see so many of Vulcan’s hostile cousins offering their help. There were also Andorians by the droves, and a couple of Orions which set her on edge. But there were humans too—at least ones that looked mostly human, and it was enough that she pushed her way through the crowd and headed in.

Christine had told her she and Bones had met up with some people Bones had known at the Academy, and they had a table near the back. Nyota spotted them almost immediately, Christine’s bright smile as she leaned into an Orion woman that for a second, looked so much like Galia that Nyota’s heart leapt until she remembered. 

She breathed through the momentary pain, then made her way over. Leonard saw her first, and raised his beer glass in her direction. “Well well, if it isn’t the most talented Communications Officer in the entire fleet!”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “I’m not even going to ask how shore leave is treating you, doctor.” She slid into the single, vacated seat and ignored the eyes of the strangers on her. None were Vulcan, and that was no surprise to her. In fact, most of the Vulcans in the bar seemed there only to observe alien behavior, which was really the most logical thing. “What’s good here?”

“They have almost everything,” the Orion woman said, turning to grin at Christine who was pink in the cheeks and clearly feeling both the attention and her drink. “That was the point when they set this place up—we’re suffering in heat and less than ideal conditions, so they do what they can to make us feel cared for. Who knew the Vulcans had it in them?”

The table laughed, but Nyota bristled because well…she knew. She knew damn well what the Vulcans had inside them. She caught Leonard’s eye, and he merely shook his head and went back to his beer as Nyota made a snap decision.

“I’m grabbing a drink. Who wants?”

“Oh, let me,” said a humanoid man with Betazoid-black eyes.

Nyota shook her head. “Nope, I’m good.” She pushed herself up and reached into her tunic for a credit chip. She approached the bar which was fairly clear, and the Vulcan man behind it looked at ease, which let her relax slightly. “Hi, can I get an Andorian ale in a warm glass?”

The Vulcan man nodded, and proceeded to pour one from the tap, into a glass which he pulled from a heater. When he slid it across the bar and she attempted to give her chip, he shook his head. “We do not accept Federation Credits here.”

She blinked. “I don’t have…”

“You misunderstand,” the Vulcan man said. “We do not take payment from humans.”

Nyota froze a moment, uncertain if she should be offended until a voice so familiar, it was like a balm to her, spoke near her left ear. “It is the Vulcan’s attempt at showing gratitude for the assistance the humans have given.”

Her head whipped to the side, and she couldn’t conceal the shock at seeing T’Pring there—dressed more casually than she had been at the High Chambers. Her tunic was plain, with faint gold threading, similar to what Nyota was wearing. It set off the deep, rich color of her eyes, and the sharpness of her cheekbones.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she admitted.

T’Pring gave a short nod. “It was a desire to sate my curiosity, especially when the Enterprise arrived. I confess, I was hoping you would join your crewmates.”

Nyota glanced back at the table, but it was obvious her absence wasn’t felt, and it made something inside her sting a little. She turned back to T’Pring who was now staring at her, head cocked slightly to the side. “Yeah, they talked me into coming out, but I’m not sure I really want to be here.”

“Your emotions fascinate me,” T’Pring said.

“Well humans are…” she began, but T’Pring shook her head, stopping her words.

“I do not mean humans. I have had more than enough observation of your race to make what I believe to be an accurate hypothesis. But you are an outlier.”

Nyota couldn’t help the way her brows lifted. “An outlier?”

“Your experience with other races has compromised your humanity,” T’Pring said, and then amended, “not as such that you are less human, but that your natural instincts have become influenced by those around you, not similar to the other humans who have not dedicated their lives to such a study. It is…fascinating. You wish for companionship, and yet you find yourself apart from those who would offer it.” She was silent a moment, then seemed to come to a conclusion. “They are not offering what you are seeking.”

Nyota let out a tiny sigh and took a long drink of the warm ale before she answered. “No,” she said, because why lie. “They really aren’t. And I was feeling lonely, but I don’t think this place is helping.”

“Permit me to accompany you,” T’Pring said then, like anything Spock had ever said he had deemed logical. “I can offer companionship without the chaos of inebriation and noise.”

Nyota opened her mouth to politely refuse, but in the end she realized it was the last thing she wanted to do. So instead she finished the drink quickly, nodded, and pushed herself away from the bar. She determinedly didn’t meet the eyes of Christine or Leonard as they left, as they had to know exactly who Nyota was with now, and the last thing she wanted was to feel guilt over leaving a bar with Spock’s ex.

“I don’t have a car,” Nyota confessed, “but if you don’t mind the walk, it’s not that far away.”

“I am amenable,” T’Pring said, and fell in step beside Nyota.

They were silent on the way, and where it should have been awkward, instead she felt a strange peace settle over her in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Not since she and Spock were a thing, and she wasn’t sure if that should make her feel bad or not for how often she was comparing T’Pring to the only other Vulcan she knew. Kaiidith, she decided, because it was what it was.

They reached what would have been called a resort on Earth, and she used the little chip to enter her quarters. The back door was still open, the gauzy curtains swaying in the breeze, giving full view of the softly lit hot springs. She caught T’Pring staring, and she couldn’t help the question that bubbled up in her.

“Is it weird, having so much water here?”

T’Pring lifted a brow, and she approached the back door, staring at it for a while before she answered. “It is logical that there would be many differences wherever our people colonized. I admit that—illogically—I find myself unsettled when I look at the sky and do not see stars I am used to, or look up to see the moons where there was none before, or when I look out and see the flowing water in the outer-lands. But there is no sense dwelling on what no longer is.”

“Kaiidith,” Nyota said again, this time aloud.

T’Pring nodded her head once. “I admit there are moments I find myself fascinated, if not pleasured, by the differences. The flora has provided us with a range of new foods to accommodate our population’s needs, and though it is illogical to eat food solely for enjoyment, I find I cannot deny the pleasure in tasting them.”

Nyota let herself smile at that as she led the way outside. She slipped the sandals off, then dipped her toe in the water. “Do you mind if we sit out here?”

“Negative,” T’Pring said. She fetched a cushion from the bench and sat near, though she didn’t put her feet in the water the way Nyota did.

“I was on Vulcan once, about two years before Nero,” she said carefully. “Spock was visiting his mother for her birthday.”

“I was aware of his presence,” T’Pring admitted. “My sister informed me that he had taken a human mate and I had anticipated he would request the dissolving of our bond at that time. I confess myself surprised he did not.”

Nyota let out a small laugh, almost bitter but mostly at herself, not at Spock. “I didn’t want it. I mean, I was happy with him but…”

“Most humans are not agreeable to such a thing. It is not in their nature to understand, because it is unnecessary for them.”

Nyota shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I didn’t understand, I was just…” The words stalled in her throat, choking her slightly, but not out of fear that T’Pring would judge her, only that she was still getting used to being so much of herself. “At the time, I was not acknowledging my preferences. That I'm exclusively attracted to women,” she added to be clear.

T’Pring lifted a brow, but her eyes shone with an understanding. “So in this denial, you had chosen Spock who was already possessed of a bondmate. There is logic in your actions.”

Nyota let out a small, startled laugh. “I didn’t expect anyone to find that logical.”

“We are a species of extreme control, but it does not mean we do not struggle with denial of our true selves. Spock himself will struggle with this for as long as he breathes,” T’Pring said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but he’s half human, and it’s not like the Vulcans did a whole lot to help him feel accepted,” Nyota bit.

“As I said, there is still struggle within us to…understand,” T’Pring replied, though she didn’t sound offended at Nyota’s icy tone. After a beat, T’Pring said, “If you are aware of my own gender, which differs from those who retain the ones given at birth. Though the Vulcans are accepting, it is not without the occasional questions of belonging.”

“Right,” Nyota said from behind a breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t get it.”

“An apology is unnecessary,” T’Pring replied easily, and Nyota found herself weirdly relieved not to hear T’Pring call apologies illogical. “I better understand your reluctance to continue your social interactions this evening.”

“The woman I was with, we were…we’ve…”

“Engaged in sexual congress?” T’Pring offered.

Nyota shrugged. “It was casual. After a bad mission, we ended up sleeping together and then a few times after that. I like her a lot, but it’s also not what I want.”

“You desire a mate.”

Nyota nodded, though the Vulcan term didn’t entirely encompass what she needed as a human, it was enough. “It’s harder now, being here for Spock and Jim’s bonding. I’m happy for them, but I’m jealous.”

“I had not understood the emotion of jealousy until we lost our planet,” T’Pring confessed quietly. “When those from other worlds arrived here to aid us in rebuilding, I found myself choking with envy that they had a people, and a homeworld to return to, and attempting to control a rage that did not have a name or direction was near impossible. I am one of two surviving members of my clan, and when I overheard humans discussing their families, I wished…that they would know pain as I did.”

Nyota’s head bowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I grieve with thee.”

“Your empathy is appreciated, but unnecessary at this time,” T’Pring admitted, but there was a kindness in her tone that made Nyota glance up. “I have accepted it, and accepted that the pain shall only ease over time, and I must accept kaiidith.”

Nyota didn’t really know what to say about all that, so she went with the only thing really on her mind. “I’m glad you survived.”

T’Pring’s mouth curled up at the corner, only for a second, but that tiny gesture sent Nyota’s heart soaring. “I have met many remarkable humans over the course of my years. Including Spock’s mother, whom I believed the source of his illogic and defect. I admit at the time, I struggled to understand what about her humanity would appeal to such a Vulcan as Sarek, but after losing our planet, I have allowed my mind to open, and there is sense in it. You are one such human, Nyota. I am glad Spock is pleased with his mate. T’hy’la bonds are even more rare these days, but I feel he has lost something great in not being able to have you.”

Nyota’s face was hot with the intensity of T’Pring’s compliments. They were unexpected, but she had no choice but to accept the truth of them, as there was no logic in manipulating her, or lying to her. T’Pring had nothing to gain by concealing truth.

“Can I ask you a personal question? And I don’t expect an answer,” Nyota chanced.

T’Pring’s brow lifted again. “You may.”

“Pon Farr. I…Spock shared a little about your bond and the uh…the reasons why it was formed. He said you had a backup plan for breaking the bond.”

T’Pring looked somewhat uncomfortable, and for a long moment, Nyota was sure her question would go ignored. Then T’Pring let out the smallest, barely-there sigh. “There are medical interventions which will help me. Vulcan women do not go through Pon Farr, and Vulcan rubai-gav women are given the option, through medical intervention to avoid experiencing what their biology would dictate. There is a risk associated, and one my family felt was unnecessary for me to endure, so I was bonded. That is no longer an option, so I am seeking the medical intervention.”

Nyota’s gut burned with fear. “What if it doesn’t work?”

T’Pring glanced away. “I have calculated the risks, and they are in my favor.”

Nyota wanted to argue further, to insist that T’Pring’s life wasn’t worth a gamble, but she didn’t think the Vulcan woman would take lightly to the implications that she was wrong. So instead Nyota said, “Do you want to maybe get dinner sometime? While I’m here?”

T’Pring blinked, looking startled. “A meal specifically for social interaction?”

Nyota’s cheeks burned. “I’m not hitting on you or anything. I mean, I’m not assuming your preferences or…I don’t mean…it doesn’t have to be like a date. I just…talking to you is enjoyable. I think I’d like to do it more.”

T’Pring stared a long time, her face blank in a way even Spock could rarely achieve. Then, after what felt like the longest silence, she said, “I would be amenable to such a meal. I have a day’s worth of work in the labs tomorrow, but I could be free for the evening meal if you would accompany me.”

Nyota couldn’t help her grin. “I would love to.”

Yet again, like the first flicker of dawn as the twin suns rose, T’Pring’s mouth lifted into a barely-there smile.

~*~ 

Nyota held her glass tightly in her hand, surprised and yet not surprised by how human the bonding ceremony had been. Of course, no one apart from T’Pau had been permitted to preside over the bonding, but it was clear that in an attempt to acknowledge the humanity in one half of the bonded pair, a small party was thrown.

Nyota saw Bones and Jim chatting away in the corner of the room, and Spock nearby with an excited Chekov waving his hand perilously close to Spock’s sparkling water. She felt at home here, yet strangely separate from the members of the Enterprise who had yet to leave, and from the Vulcans she had met in the brief stint aboard the Enterprise right after Vulcan was destroyed.

“You appear troubled, Miss Uhura.”

Nyota turned and saw Sarek there, hands behind his back, one eyebrow lifted in a way she knew meant polite conversation. She was surprised, but didn’t let it show as she nodded a greeting. “I’m not troubled. Merely…exhausted from our mission. It’s common, after this long.”

“Indeed,” Sarek said. “I spoke my concerns with Spock that you would be attending. I am familiar with the human emotion of bitterness, and as Spock has chosen his captain as a bondmate instead of yourself…”

She smiled, shaking her head. “That was welcome, Ambassador, believe me. Spock and I would not have made a good match.”

“Indeed,” Sarek said. She was certain he would walk away then, but he didn’t. “My wife was fond of you, though she, too believed that there was no future in your relationship with our son. I confessed my relief at the time, wishing that Spock would go forward with his bond with T’Pring, and my wife found this…illogical. I did not understand until now, and it is with a heavy heart I cannot share that with her.”

Nyota felt her heart twist—knowing the secret of just how damn much Sarek loved his wife. She bowed her head. “I grieve with thee.”

Sarek nodded again, then stepped back and headed out.

The room suddenly felt suffocating, and Nyota managed to make her escape through the doors which led to a terrace stretching around the side of the building. It looked over the landscape—just as red and just as hot as old Vulcan, but so alien at the same time. She let her breath come out in a quiet sigh as she leaned against the railings, and several moments passed before she felt the presence of another.

Her head turned and her gaze fell on a man she didn’t expect to see. Ambassador Selek—though she would never confess she knew the truth about him. It was still a wonder to look at him, the aged face and slight tremble of his hands, and know this would he her Spock some day. All the same, she smiled, and she felt gratified in seeing it echoed back at her. Knowing that Spock would embrace at least parts of his humanity as he aged gave her peace of mind.

“Lieutenant Uhura,” he said, his voice gravelly and ancient.

Her grin widened. “Ambassador. Did you…you know, before, did you ever call me by my first name?”

The elder Spock looked surprised for a moment, then chuckled under his breath. “Not for many years, Nyota. I confess my pleasure in seeing that you formed a more intimate relationship with my counterpart. One I do hope has ended in friendship.”

“I love him more than I’ve loved most people,” Nyota confessed. “But we were never meant to be.”

“I believe that in every universe we can conceive, the version of myself, and the version of Jim Kirk, will always find their way together. Whether it takes thirty years, or three, or from childhood, or even at the end of their lives.”

“Can I ask how it happened for you?” she wondered, turning to face him a little better. “Since you know, they’re already bonded and nothing can influence that now.”

He huffed, his eyes playful and soft. “I suppose it cannot hurt.” He hesitated, then said, “There was a moment—a catalyst if you will—when my biology took over and we were forced to return to Vulcan. As that is not a possibility here…”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “You mean Pon Farr, right?”

Spock inclined his head. “I do.”

“So you two spent it together or…”

“It was more complicated than that.” He clasped his hands over the railing, his aged eyes looking over the expanse of the horizon. “I believe it will be easier for them now, and that is a relief, because though that event changed much, the memory is a great source of pain to me. For a short time, I thought I had lost him, and I knew then I could not live if I could not do it beside James Kirk. But we did not have the courage to risk what we had until years later. I regret that now, but kaiidith.”

Nyota huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. These two…” She glanced behind her through the open doors and saw Jim laughing loudly, elbowing Spock who looked fondly put upon. She turned back to the elder Spock. “Did you ever encounter the Platonians?”

Spock’s sudden, dark look told her everything. “We…did.”

She licked her lips. “Yeah. Yeah we uh…right before we came here, they were…” She trailed off, rubbing a hand down her face.

“I am sorry. I am well aware the extreme distress that mission caused you.” He reached out, hesitated, then touched her wrist gently, sending a warm pulse of comfort through it.

“It’s…fine. I mean, it’s not, but we got through it, and Jim and Spock couldn’t ignore what they were feeling anymore so I guess it worked out for the best.”

“Was that the moment you and Spock deemed it necessary to terminate your relationship?” he asked carefully.

She shook her head. “No. No, it was before that. I mean, after Jim came back—after Khan and everything—I knew then. He cried. He’d lost control before, but never like that, and when I saw what Jim’s death did to him…”

“I am profoundly aware of the experience,” Spock said, his voice tight.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “I realized then it was pointless to stay when neither one of us wanted to be there. I didn’t want to lose my friend, and if I pushed it, I would have. I would have forced him to choose, and…” She licked her lips, rolling her eyes up to look away from the elder Spock. “I didn’t want to be chosen.”

“I understand. I grieve with thee, Nyota, for all that you have denied yourself.”

“Was I happy?” she asked after some time. “The other me? The last time you saw me, was I happy?”

“You were always happy, ashal-veh,” Spock confessed warmly. “You married Miss Rand after the five year mission ended, and you occasionally taught languages at the Academy when you were planet-bound. I believe you shall find what you are looking for. In the end.”

Nyota contemplated that, but when she tried to conjure Janice’s face in her mind, her blonde hair was quickly replaced by black, by sharp cheekbones and almond, Vulcan eyes, and the tiny quirk of a lip. She shivered on the inside. “I met T’Pring. Have you…uh. You know, since you got here?”

Spock chuckled very quietly. “She and I have made our acquaintances, but she is unaware of my true identity and I believe it should stay as such. She is much changed from the T’Pring I knew.”

“You and that T’Pring severed your bond?”

Spock looked pained again. “She challenged,” he confessed. “She had chosen a mate apart from myself, and I suppose that, too, would be the same in any universe we are to encounter. As you were aware that my counterpart and yourself did not belong together, so T’Pring had learned the same thing.”

“So I shouldn’t worry?” Nyota asked.

“Clarify?”

Nyota sighed. “She’s…” she struggled to remember the word. “Rubai-gav. She was going to have Pon Farr, so she bonded with Spock. Other Spock,” Nyota said, the whole thing not just a little confusing when speaking to the elder. “Now that he and Jim are bonded, she’s…force to choose other means.”

Spock was quiet for a moment, then said, “I am to understand, then, her chosen mate did not survive the destruction of the planet.”

“I didn’t even know she had one. She just mentioned she was using other options, which weren’t a guarantee she was going to stay safe, and that…” Nyota trailed off with a sigh. “Vulcans are already threatened with extinction, and to take such a risk with her life, seems unwise.”

After another pause, Spock said, “I did not realize you were acquainted.”

Nyota couldn’t help a small laugh. “It was by chance, really. I was having drinks with Bones and Christine, and she was there and we talked.” Nyota shrugged. “I like her, and the thought that she won’t make it through all of this is…it’s terrible. It seems like such a waste of such an amazing life.”

Spock was looking at her curiously now, and the smallest grin quirked at his mouth. “I understand,” he said finally. “I believe your continued friendship and communication with T’Pring will make things clear and possibly serve to eliminate any potential risks to her life.”

Nyota scoffed. “Ambassador, I’m a scientist, but I’m not trained in Vulcan biology. I don’t see how I can help.”

“It will be made clear, ashal-veh.” He held up his ta’al, then reached out and pulled her into a hug. “Though it is a new universe with new souls, I am pleased to see you again, old friend. Now if you will excuse me, I must give my congratulations to the bonded couple before I take my leave.”

He was gone then, leaving Nyota confused more than ever, as she stood out there on the balcony alone. His words stuck with her though, unable to shake off. His sheer belief that T’Pring would be okay should have left her comforted, but instead it just furthered her anxiety. She hadn’t lied though—not to him, or to herself. She didn’t know T’Pring well, but she found herself invested in her survival, and if the elder Spock was right and she could be of some help, she would certainly do anything in her power to ensure the other woman survived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added one extra chapter. I have some writer's block with this fic becuase it's kind of intensely personal (I based a lot of Nyota's lesbian self-discovery on my own) so parsing through old memories is a struggle.
> 
> But I wanted to update this so even though this chapter is shorter, I think it's pretty satisfying. Not sure when my next update will be, but it will be the last chapter. <3

Nyota had expected something else. She’d been the subject to Vulcan courting rituals—in a sense, anyway. Spock had been enraptured by her sharp intellect and borderline eidetic memory, and of course her flawless Vulcan which she used in the privacy of office hours. She’d studied enough cultures to know that she wouldn’t be able to expect anything human from Spock, so she went the route of direct, and simply asked him to dinner herself. He was hesitant, as she expected—not just for her humanity, but for the fact that she was a cadet and he was not. But he seemed to admire her forthright attitude—something that later became obvious in his attraction to Jim. It was just a _thing_ for him.

The way thinking about T’Pring made her stomach twist and face get warm, she wondered if maybe she had a _thing_ too. Maybe not for Vulcans in general, but the ones that stood out—the clever ones, the bold and brash ones. Nyota had never assumed she’d end up with a human, anyway. Not in a forever sort of way. She was never going to be the demure, soft, emotional creature that most humans wanted out of their partners. She wanted to be with someone with whom she could speak her mind and not have to consider every single word carefully before she spoke it to avoid hurt feelings.

Maybe that’s why it worked with Spock for so long, in spite of what she truly knew about herself.

All the same, she hadn’t expected T’Pring to show up at her door, dressed in gauzy, formal robes with her hair let down, and a box of something that smelled _amazing_ in her hands. Nyota could do little else but step aside and let T’Pring inside, and she pushed her back against the door as it slid shut with a quiet snick.

“I have been made aware that humans and Vulcans have drastically different cultural practices when it comes to eating. In an effort to minimize both of our discomforts, I have brought a meal here to partake in private. I hope this is acceptable.”

“Oh,” Nyota said, a warmth blooming in her chest as she realized she was touched by the gesture. “Yeah no, that’s great. We can eat here. But you know, I’ve been friends with Spock for a long time, and we took a lot of meals together. I even ate a few times with his family, so I can tell you it’s not _that_ different.”

T’Pring turned to look at her, giving her a slow, calculating stare. “I believe this was due to Spock’s half-human nature, and the presence of his human mother in his home. There would be undue scrutiny at your presence should we partake in a meal at a Vulcan establishment. I also wish to know your mind, and as Vulcans do not typically speak while eating…”

Nyota knew that it wasn’t a huge thing with them, but she hadn’t stopped to consider that Spock’s tendency to be quiet during a meal might actually translate to utter and absolute silence in a formal situation. T’Pring’s logic was flawless, and it made her fingers tingle with the want to reach out and touch.

“Is it like that in all Vulcan homes, without human influence?” she asked.

T’Pring considered this, tilting her head to the side as she walked to the table and set the food down. “It is…perhaps not as strict as one might be in a public setting. It is not encouraged, however. But I find myself fascinated by human culture, and wished to experience this with you without the presence of others.”

Nyota wasn’t sure that should make her feel as flattered as it did, but all the same, she was going to take it. She walked over and quickly helped T’Pring unpack the boxes. The food was definitely Vulcan, with fragrant desert spices and all vegetarian cuisine. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was—how the stress had affected her and made her appetite both grow and remain hidden. Her stomach rumbled, and she flushed.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day and I didn’t eat anything.”

T’Pring didn’t acknowledge the apology. “Was the bonding ceremony emotionally difficult for you to endure?”

Nyota blinked, then couldn’t help a small laugh. “No. God I…no. I don’t have any leftover feelings for Spock.”

“I did not assume any existed,” T’Pring told her as she carefully dished out two plates. They took seats at the table, and Nyota chose the fork that had been provided, while T’Pring used the Vulcan utensils that resembled chopsticks. “I am unfamiliar with the human range of emotion, though I have studied it. But I believe that at times, when one is unbonded, it can be emotionally trying to watch others you care for, partake in a ceremony in which you hope to engage.”

“Ah,” Nyota said. She carefully had a few bites before answering. “Then I guess, yes. In a way it was…not the easiest part of my day. But I’m happy for them.”

“It is a strange concept to exude emotion for those which do not directly affect your life. Contrary to most beliefs, Vulcans _do_ feel.”

Nyota couldn’t help a small grin. “I know. And not just from Spock, but I know Sarek loved his wife. I know he loves his son. I know that familial bonds mean something to your people, and I know that all of you felt unending grief after Nero.”

T’Pring’s face didn’t change, but there was a decided darkening of the mood between them, and Nyota felt a surge of guilt. “Then you understand my lack of understanding human emotion is not a lack of understanding emotion at all.”

“I do. And I’m sorry for bringing up…you know.” She swallowed the name down. “It’s not something I ever want to imagine, or something I can ever pretend like I understand.” 

T’Pring shook her head. “I took no offense where none was intended. It is only natural that the subject occur between two people who were closely involved.”

Nyota accepted that, though she wanted to argue that she had very little to do with the whole thing. She had done her duty to the ship, and to Spock, to her people and to her Captain, but she hadn’t been a hero then. It would be pointless to argue with T’Pring though, who would not have said it if logic didn’t dictate her belief.

“Maybe we can move on to something less…intense,” she said, and offered a small smile.

T’Pring nodded. “You may choose the subject if you wish. I understand you have come here for a cultural study, and I am pleased to offer you assistance in such a thing.”

Nyota almost laughed. “Thank you. I…I’m not even sure where to begin.” She ducked her head and ate a few more bites, trying to gather her thoughts. “Is it offensive when Vulcans see humans displaying so much emotion?”

T’Pring considered this, her eyebrow lifted as she took a sip of her drink. After a long moment, she said, “It is rare that a Vulcan finds offense—at least, for those who are not children. There is no logic in taking offense in something that comes natural to a species. We often find it is humans who cannot fathom that we do not share the same attachment to emotion, or to people, and often I have found they cannot fathom how we are able to find satisfaction and even love, without openly displaying weakness for ones bondmate.”

Nyota couldn’t help the smallest grin, thinking of Jim, and Spock’s reaction to him. She knew if she used him as an example, T’Pring would only reference Spock’s half-human side, but she had a feeling there was little difference in the S’chn T’gai household when Sarek first bonded to Amanda.

“You wish to disagree with me,” T’Pring said.

Nyota blinked, then smiled and shook her head. “No. Not…necessarily, but I think Vulcans show more weakness for those they care about than they are willing to admit.”

“I will take that into consideration.” T’Pring sounded matter-of-fact, not annoyed, so Nyota took it as a win. “Have you concluded your meal?”

Nyota looked down at her mostly empty plate, and realized the last bits of it she’d just been pushing around in a circle. “Yes, thank you. It was really delicious.”

T’Pring nodded, then cleared up the remnants, depositing most of it into the waste receptacle, and the rest back into the containers. After a moment, she turned back to Nyota with her hands clasped behind her back. “I wish to…” She hesitated, which was startling. “I wish to confess I find you attractive.”

Nyota felt her heart hammer against her ribs, the confession so frank, so unexpected, and it took her a moment to react. “Oh.”

“I understand that perhaps as a human you do not find alien species attractive—though your romantic liaison with Spock would suggest otherwise. I also am to understand that often humans do not find bodies outside of their birth-assigned genders pleasing but…”

“No,” Nyota blurted, and T’Pring went silent. She felt her cheeks heat when she realized the implication. “I mean, yes, you’re correct in that assessment regarding some humans, but I don’t…that isn’t me.” She pressed her hands to the table and pushed up to stand. “Most of it, anyway. I wasn’t really attracted to Spock, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be attracted to other Vulcans.”

“And myself as rubai-gav…”

“You’re beautiful,” Nyota said in a rush, feeling heady the idea that she was allowed to say it, that T’Pring felt the same way. “I’m attracted to women. I’m attracted to you. It’s not more complicated than that.” She laughed a little bit. “I thought I was being obvious.”

“What I believed to be interest was not subtle,” T’Pring confirmed, “and yet humans continue to perplex me, and I could not be as certain as I wished without speaking plainly.”

“I get that,” Nyota muttered. She walked around the table, close to T’Pring without touching. She wanted to—god how she wanted to, but indecision gripped her. She didn’t want another fling, she didn’t want another Christine, or a one-night-stand. She wanted more. Substance, and love, and a relationship. “I understand Vulcans don’t do casual.”

“If you mean to imply that we do not engage in coitus outside of a bonded relationship, then that is traditionally the case. There are always outliers, however.”

Nyota licked her lips and dared to look at T’Prings face which was gorgeous, and blank as ever. “And you? Are you an outlier?”

“I find myself,” T’Pring said slowly, “wishing to have you as my mate, however my pull to you is strong enough, I would compromise such a want if it means I would have you for a short time.”

Nyota’s whole body flooded with desire, and she let out a shaking breath. “I don’t want that. I…mean, I want you, but not just once.”

T’Pring nodded stiffly, then stepped so close they were almost touching. Her hand lifted, hesitated, then brushed along Nyota’s jaw so soft, she barely felt it beyond the tingle of Vulcan telepathy. “We are still but strangers.”

“Not entirely,” Nyota murmured. “I’d be happy to open my mind to you.”

“You did this with Spock,” she said, and it was a statement, because obviously she had felt some degree of it when Nyota had let him in.

Swallowing thickly, she nodded. “Yes.”

“I find that…displeasing. I wish to be the only one who has touched your katra.” Her hand curled into a fist, and her knuckles drew a firm line down the side of Nyota’s neck.

“It’s not his,” Nyota said, her voice trembling. She curled her fingers into her palms, squeezing her hands tight, restraining her desire to reach out and touch. “I was never his.”

“That is…gratifying.” T’Pring’s hand opened, her flat palm pressing to Nyota’s cheek, thumb grazing the edge of her lips. “Humans kiss here.”

Nyota nodded. “We do.”

T’Pring’s other hand spread flat out on Nyota’s stomach, dragging downward, cupping her between the legs. Nyota gasped at the contact, at the heat pouring from T’Pring’s delicate fingertips. “And you feel pleasure here.”

“As you do,” Nyota said, breathless.

“Fascinating,” T’Pring replied, then used the hand on Nyota’s face to tilt her head, and she kissed her.

The kiss was well researched, but unpracticed—technically perfect in all the right places, but stiff and unsure. Nyota fought back a smile as she lifted her hands to T’Pring’s face and stroked the skin with the pads of her thumb. At the motion, T’Pring’s stiff lips began to soften, her shoulders eased down, and when Nyota licked along her bottom lip, T’Pring sucked in air which gave Nyota room to gently push her tongue in.

T’Pring froze for a second, and then her hands went to Nyota’s hips, grabbing her firmly around the waist, pulling them together so their bodies pressed in a long, hard line. Nyota’s hands drifted up into T’Pring’s hair, curling into the soft locks at the nape of her neck, gently stroking T’Pring’s tongue with her own.

When they pulled back, T’Pring was stoic as ever, but the hint of green blush high on her cheeks gave her away. Reaching back for her face, Nyota boldly cupped her cheek and cocked her head to the side. “Good?”

“Fascinating,” T’Pring murmured as though she could say nothing else. She blinked, coming back to herself, and then met Nyota’s gaze full on. “I wish to engage in sexual intercourse with you.”

Nyota nearly laughed, but she managed to hold it back as she drifted one hand down to cup T’Pring’s well-formed backside. “I want you,” she said. “You have to tell me how to—I’m new at all of this, and to Vulcan bodies. Show me how to please you.”

“I shall,” T’Pring said, her voice huskier than before, and thick with want. Her hands drifted from Nyota’s waist, up over her breasts, lingering for a moment before falling to her shoulders in a gentle squeeze. “I have researched intercourse with multiple terran genders extensively, and I believe I am certain how to give you sexual gratification, but my wish is the same. I will accept your guidance, Nyota.”

The way her name sounded on T’Pring’s lips was almost overwhelming. Beautiful, filled with a promise of other sounds she might make once Nyota discovered where to touch, how to bring a green flush to her cheeks, to part her lips, to lose her breath in gasping sighs. “We should move to the bed. It’ll be more comfortable.”

T’Pring didn’t remove her hands, but instead guided Nyota backward, into the bedroom, past the gauzy curtains hanging from the posters around the bed. Her movements were clinical, perfunctory as she went for the fastenings on Nyota’s robes, but lingered a heavy touch along her exposed thighs, up her stomach once she was laid bare.

“You are aesthetically pleasing. More so than most humans I have come into contact with.” Her fingers hooked into the elastic waist of Nyota’s underwear, and tugged gently to expose the top of her trimmed hair. Her fingers pushed into it, and Nyota felt herself throb in anticipation of those fingers pushing deeper. “I had wondered…” She tilted her head to the side as her eyes lingered on hers before glancing downward at her own hand. “I could not understand Spock’s fascination with humans. With you,” she added, “which was before we engaged in conversation. It is clear to me now, and were Captain Kirk not his t’hy’la, I would find his termination the relationship between him and yourself to be…utterly illogical.”

It was a potential insult of the harshest kind, Nyota knew, but her thoughts didn’t linger on it. Not when T’Pring was using her other hand to spread her legs wider, to run her sensitive, Vulcan fingertips along the warm flesh of her inner thighs.

“Fascinating,” T’Pring murmured, but there was a novel of meaning behind the single word.

Nyota pushed up onto her elbows and reached out, tugging at the collar of T’Pring’s tunic until she was hovering directly over her. “Did you like it? When we kissed?” She brushed her thumb over T’Pring’s lower lip, and felt it like a punch to the gut when T’Pring’s breath shuddered out in a small sigh.

“Affirmative.”

“Good,” Nyota murmured, then grabbed her around the back of her neck and drew her in slowly. As their tongues met, T’Pring’s fingers pushed down against Nyota’s underwear, drawing them down to her thighs, exposing her to the warm rush of air in the room. She shifted, feeling the pressure of want, feeling herself grow wetter with need because T’Pring’s fingers began a gentle exploration of her folds, the pulsing clit between them. “There,” she said with a small gasp.

T’Pring pulled her face away, and glanced down to where her fingers were gently probing. She increased the pressure, stroking in a small circle, and Nyota couldn’t help but push her hips up against the motion. T’Pring let out another, shaking breath, then lowered her face to Nyota’s exposed breasts and drew her tongue along one, pert nipple.

“And this?” she asked, her lips brushing against flush-warm skin as she spoke. “It brings you pleasure.”

“Yes,” Nyota said, and stroked her thumb along the corner of T’Pring’s mouth. “You can use your mouth on me anywhere. Trust me, I’ll like it.”

T’Pring looked up, her expression blank, but fire in her eyes before she knelt down, dragging her lips against Nyota’s stomach, down further, until she was licking at her where she wanted most. Nyota’s head fell back against the pillow as she felt T’Pring’s fingers push into her, a gentle probe, and cautious, like she was calculating every response.

For a moment, it threw her. For a moment, she thought about Spock, and the careful way he would always touch her, but it wasn’t like this. It was reading her comfort, but never pushing for more, but this Vulcan seemed determined to bring her to the edge.

“You can…a little deeper, but keep licking me,” Nyota begged. “God please, I’m so close.”

T’Pring made a humming sound, like consideration, but obeyed immediately and soon with fingers and tongue in the exact places Nyota wanted them, she was shuddering with her orgasm. She felt her fluids rush out along T’Pring’s fingers which were still thrusting into her gently, but her tongue had moved and she was now kissing along Nyota’s labia with soft lips.

It took her a moment to recover, to remember that there was still more to be had, more to explore. When she came to completely, she wasted no time in sitting up and pulling at the silken strings of T’Pring’s tunic.

“Is this okay?”

T’Pring nodded once. “Yes. I find I wish you to reciprocate.”

Nyota couldn’t help her grin, or help herself from leaning forward and kissing the taste of herself on T’Pring’s lips. When she pulled back, T’Pring was staring at her with a curious look.

“You enjoy the taste, even if it is your own fluids.”

Nyota grinned. “It’s hot. As in arousing, not…”

“I have familiarized myself with terran colloquialism,” T’Pring responded, and pulled back just long enough to remove her tunic and the soft pants. She wore something like underwear, but no bra, and her breasts stood out small and pert. Nyota reached out and cupped one of them, rubbing her thumb along one of the nipples.

“Is that…does that…feel good?” she chanced.

“I find myself sensitive there, yes,” T’Pring said with a nod.

“Where else? How can I touch you?” Nyota asked, leaning in to lave her tongue along one nipple, then the other. She kissed her way up to T’Pring’s neck, and sucked gently just below her ear, though it garnered no response.

“I find our biology is somewhat similar. The vagina is somewhat similar in superficial design to the Vulcan genital pocket,” T’Pring said and the words sounded like they’d come straight from a textbook, but the tone behind them was breathless, and hurried. She took Nyota by the wrist and guided her hand down to the waistband of her underwear. “It is sensitive in a similar manner.”

Nyota nodded, then carefully urged her back.

It took her absolutely no time at all to strip T’Pring bare, to lay her out beneath her and explore every inch of exposed skin she could get her mouth on. It was nothing like Christine, she noted somewhere in the back of her mind. T’Pring was beautifully alien—warmer than anyone Nyota has ever touched, and flushing like forest leaves in the wake of Nyota’s trailing fingers. Her face gave nothing away, but her parted lips and gasping breaths were almost more overwhelming than when she had Christine moaning and begging at the top of her lungs. Somehow, these tiny bursts of reaction are _everything_ , and Nyota suddenly needed to get her mouth exactly where T’Pring wanted it most.

“Here?” she asked, and gently pushed two fingers along the swelling genital pocket. It parted in the center, much like her own labia, but the wetness coating her was thicker, and smelled almost sweet. 

T’Pring groaned very softly, and arched against Nyota’s hand. “Yes.”

“Can I use my mouth, my tongue? Tell me want you want, please,” she begged, grabbing T’Prings legs and pushing them up and apart so she could kneel between them. She dipped her head low and trailed biting kisses along a green-flushed thigh.

“Yes. You…yes,” T’Pring said, and Nyota considered it a great triumph to reduce such an articulate species to sentence fragments.

It was all the motivation she needed, really, and soon she was nosing at the thatch of hair—thinner than Nyota’s and not nearly as coarse. It felt good against her cheeks as she nuzzled, then took an experimental lick. The mechanics of it were different. The slit spread, her wetness thick and heady, and as she dipped her tongue in, she felt something bulbous pulsing, covered in tiny villi which quivered at her first lick.

T’Pring let out a deep-chested groan and pushed with her hips against Nyota’s face.

“Yes. God, yes,” Nyota groaned, feeling herself go wet again, throb with need. She was going to come again, and she braced one hand on T’Pring’s thigh, the other reaching between her own legs to rub at her clit as she went back to work on the gorgeous woman beneath her.

At first, she was uncertain if she’d be able to read T’Pring, to know when it was enough, when she was close, when she was coming. But in the end it was simple—maybe due to a connection, maybe just because their species were enough alike. She felt T’Pring trembling under her hand as she licked and sucked, and stimulated the villi. Her jaw was getting sore, but the broken whimpers T’Pring was making was enough to keep her going, her own hand rubbing at herself until she was coming and sucking and licking—and then her face was coated by a rush of liquid almost enough to make her choke.

She pulled back, grinning wide and swiping at her face as T’Pring’s head fell against the pillows and her chest rose and fell with some effort to draw breath. Nyota took a moment, resting her cheek against T’Pring’s thigh, then eventually rolled off and climbed up beside her.

“Was that…satisfactory?” she asked, trying to keep her words simple.

There was a pause long enough to worry her, then T’Pring rolled over and brushed two finger along Nyota’s temple, down the line of her jaw. “It was more than. I felt…a connection to you that was unexpected.”

Nyota’s grin widened, making her cheeks ache, and she couldn’t help but reach out and put a hand on T’Pring’s hip, drawing her closer. “I think I felt it too. I…” She blew out a puff of air and leaned back slightly to stare up at the ceiling. “I didn’t expect to like you, and I figured you wouldn’t be entirely fond of me considering.”

“Your association with my former bond mate?” T’Pring questioned.

Nyota shrugged. “I know we’ve been over this and I know Vulcans don’t lie…but humans don’t always think rationally.”

“I have come to understand that, and appreciate that about your species,” T’Pring said. Her hand drifted down and drew absent patterns along Nyota’s exposed shoulder. “There is something to be said for the human ability to empathize—to feel when feeling is necessary. I envy that. Grief in the face of logic serves to only bring more pain.”

Nyota turned back and grabbed T’Pring’s hand, kissing the pads of her fingers, knowing exactly what type of gesture it was. She enjoyed the way T’Pring’s face went flush again, and that the Vulcan didn’t pull away. “I want to see you again.”

T’Pring blinked at her, and just when Nyota thought she was going to get some smart-ass, Vulcanian-literal reply, she twitched the corners of her mouth upward and said, “I find myself reciprocating the sentiment.”

Nyota smiled gently, and let herself relax into the bed. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen after this—whether or not the desire would manifest into reality, but for now, she’d let this be enough.

~*~ 

“You appear troubled.”

Nyota startled from her thoughts, turning her head to see Spock standing only a few feet away. He was dressed in casual robes—she’d him in them before, but it was always strange when he was out of uniform. He looked at home though, even if this place wasn’t truly home. He was relaxed in a way he rarely was on the ship, though she wondered now if that had everything to do with being in love with his Captain, and that love remaining unspoken for so long.

“I thought once you bonded with Jim you couldn’t see into my head anymore,” she said.

Spock let out a tiny, amused huff as he approached her, dropping his hands from where they were clasped behind his back, and he sat next to her on the stone bench. “It does not mean I am not aware of you, Nyota. You are as dear to me as Jim.”

“But differently,” she said.

He nodded once. “This troubles you?”

“No.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “No. I’m happy for you. The two of you had been in each other’s orbits for way too long, and I just…” She sighed and shrugged. “It sucks that it took him dying for you to resolve it, but I’m still glad it happened. You look happy.”

His lips thinned at the mention of Jim’s death—the big taboo on the ship for most of them, but she wasn’t afraid of mortality, even if the pain of nearly losing Jim still kept her up some nights. He wasn’t tense though, and gave her a careful, considering look. “If you wish to share your distress, Nyota, I am here to listen.”

She pressed her hands together, then squeezed her knees around them. “I…” Part of her wanted to talk about it. How she’d had some of the best sex of her life the night before, and had spent the last few hours alone and wondering if there really was a future. If T’Pring would want it, and how they could possibly make it work. But to speak of it with Spock, of all people...

“I have distressed you further,” he said.

She laughed a little bitterly and shook her head. “It’s not you. Well…” she amended, “it is, a little bit. But it isn’t your fault. I’m sorry, I’m being cryptic.”

“If you are worried about injuring my feelings…”

“Don’t you dare tell me you don’t have them,” Nyota said a little sharply. “I’ve seen you cry, I’ve seen you mourn, I’ve seen you fall head over heels in love.”

“I would not lie to you,” he replied softly. “I merely wish to convey that you need not protect me. If I am injured, I will surely recover.”

She licked her lips, then rolled her eyes up to the pale red sky and let out a long, heavy breath. “I slept with T’Pring.”

There was a long, deep silence, then Spock said, “I noticed her interest in you almost immediately. I am not surprised the two of you would find companionship together.”

Nyota’s shoulders hunched a little. She had expected Spock to be supportive—it was only logical seeing as she and T’Pring really were a good match for each other, and that Spock had found his one and only. But for some reason, his acceptance and validation didn’t make her feel better. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You regret what you two…” he began.

“No,” she said swiftly, and looked at him. “No of course not. She’s…she’s gorgeous, and smart, and I felt…something.” She shrugged, not really sure how to convey with words the way it felt to be with her. “But it can’t…there’s no way to make it work. And I’m not even sure she wants that. She’s already putting her life at risk with Pon Farr…”

“There are few options for her,” Spock said, and there was genuine regret in his tone.

Nyota dragged a hand down her face. “Maybe one more now.”

Spock gave her a careful look, then said, “She is aware of this?”

“We didn’t meld, and I didn’t say anything,” she admitted. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. It’s not really one-night-stand talk.”

Spock lifted an eyebrow. “Vulcans are discovering much about themselves with the loss of our planet, and the exposure to new cultures who have helped us rebuild. But it is still unlike a Vulcan to engage in something so casual. It is difficult—near impossible—to achieve sexual gratification if there is not a connection.”

Nyota licked her lips. “So she might be receptive…”

“I do not know,” Spock confessed. “Her mind is much changed since she and I shared a bond. Before the destruction of Vulcan, I would say it unlikely she would wish to share such a connection to a human, but I do not believe that to be the case now. It would be in your best interest—both for your mental and emotional wellbeing—that you speak with her about it. You are clearly distressed by her choice in Pon Farr method, and as you say, you are willing…”

“I am,” Nyota breathed out. “I am.”

“Then it can only benefit the both of you to speak of it.”

Nyota nodded, and stared down at her feet for a moment. “Do you think she’ll reject me.”

She looked up only when she felt a soft touch on her face, and Spock’s hand fell to grip her shoulder in a gentle squeeze. “I cannot say. But there is no logic in rejecting you, and I believe that she is understanding the value of human companionship.” Spock’s lips turned up into a soft smile. “She would be a fool to let you go.”

Nyota leaned into his touch, and let herself be comforted by one of the few men in her life she truly loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come talk to me about T'Pura, T'Pring, Spirk, or you know whatever. Throw me a prompt if you want. [ashayamspirk](https://ashayamspirk.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting a second fic from Spock and Jim's PoV after I finish that one, so this fic is marked as a series.


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